


The Weight of Her Memory

by bibliotechpage



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Mourning, Peggy Carter - Freeform, basically you will not want to read this, i just hope i conveyed the feeling of his loss, i think this one is bearable tho, steve rogers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 06:52:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7034431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliotechpage/pseuds/bibliotechpage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve steals away to let himself grieve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Weight of Her Memory

Everything seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. The text. The words he thought he wouldn’t have to see or hear, perhaps having already been said long before his arrival into this age. He could have been spared the pain from the glow of the characters in that bubble on his phone. The hours spent in numb waiting on the flight. Even though he thought he had prepared himself for this, he couldn’t shake the “out-of-body” feeling. Despite the seemingly youthful reflection he saw in the mirror as he dressed, the weary old sorrowful soul that harbored itself inside threatened to wither at an alarming rate at the retold news of her passing.

He thought he would be able to keep himself composed- stoicism instilled in him from being in the war, but as the weight of the casket bore down on his shoulder, so did the weight of her memory. The first time he saw her cloaked in confidence and ready to punch out any obstacles that came her way. The furrow of her brow when the tactics proved a challenge. The steady control of her aim fingers clasped around the gun, more than just second nature. The smile she would lend him a plenty throughout their time in the service. The feel of her lips against his, soft and wanting.

The advice that came at the darkest hours like the words that now tapped at his temple from the pulpit. With it, the quiver of her voice at the final moment before his plunge into the depths of the glassy grave of ice. The tears she shed as she realized he was alive. Repetition consuming their borrowed time. The respite- there was none. So after the people had drifted away, the church cleared, Natasha gone, after the news of Bucky’s sighting, he stole away to follow her once more wishing for one more whisper of advice.

Her body’s final resting place, between this world and the next. The marble stone marked the spot among the lush green pasture of plots, brilliant and white. He crouched down next to it as the muddy earth slightly gave beneath him. He traced the inscription with his fingers and the tears began to stream down his face once more releasing everything he held back, always feeling the freedom to bare his soul to Peggy. In all the confusion, in all of the chaos, she had been his true north. As if to remind him, the metallic casing pressed against the fabric of his pants. His fingers tugged it out and he rested it in his palm. For what seemed like the hundredth time, he found himself staring at it. In his mind, her visage was unleashed from the sepia tone paper. The light hue of her skin. The deep warmth of her eyes. Those chestnut curls resting atop her shoulders. He brushed the pad of his thumb across paper as he recalled the memory of her touch.  

“Peggy.”

No response returned save for the London gloom that seemed darker than he had ever seen before as if it was mourning with him.  A single raindrop plopped itself on the surface of the compass, but he clamped it shut before the following drizzle could lay claim to the rest of it. As he turned to leave, he paused, _I’ll never leave my best girl. I love you, Margaret Carter._ Swiping away more tears, knowing that she too would keep moving forward, he walked away burrowing the compass into his palm. He realized there was no need to hear her words; his true north would always lead the way never leaving him all the while moving him through the complicated dance of life.  His “right partner” would always take the lead.


End file.
